Illicit Affairs
by sinkslowdown
Summary: Not long after the outbreak, Frankie goes out and finds a girl with the rare AB Negative blood type and he decides to keep her. a small collection of drabbles
1. gluttony

(i)

Desire to eat habitually. That is the definition of gluttony. Even after the outbreak, gluttony's definition had yet to change. Only what it was that was the desired food changed. From meat products and vegetables to blood. Type A, B, AB, and O. Negatives and Positives. Negatives were rare and the rarer the blood type the more delicious the taste, or so they say. AB Negatives were the rarest type, so imagine the delight Frankie Dalton felt one evening when he found a human with that very delectable blood type.

"Oh, shit," she gasped when she saw the yellow-colored eyes staring at her.

Frankie smirked, his fangs peaking out just above his lower lip. He smelt it-her fear. She was drenched in the scent and it was arousing.

"Please," she cried, tears streaking down her cheeks as she blinked, trying to stop the others from flowing. "I don't-I don't want to die!"

"Then turn."

It was simple, wasn't it? Just join them, the vampires, the ruling race, and survive. She wouldn't be hunted. She wouldn't live in fear. She'd live for eternity, or until she was burned up by the sun. Not that Frankie would let that happen, she was far too beautiful to be burnt to death.)

When he saw her head shaking and heard her pleading, he laughed. He laughed at the stupidity-the _fear _the humans had to live with.

"Go to hell," she spat and Frankie paused, mid-laugh. He looked at her and even though her brown eyes were filled with tears, he saw anger and determination behind them.

"If you haven't noticed, this place already _is_ hell!" Frankie found himself shouting, the same amount of anger in her flowing through him.

She took a step backwards, eyes wide, both afraid and surprised by his outburst. Frankie looked at her with contempt before taking another step towards her, the desire to turn her growing.

"Just...turn," he said, the softness in his tone making her tense. "It will be more bearable that way."

He had stopped, assuring a small space between her and himself, and he looked down at her, the same sickening feeling in his gut like the time he had turned his brother. When he saw her close her eyes and sigh, he brought a hand up to her neck and gently brushed back the black hair. He pressed his palm against her exposed neck and ran it up and down, ghosting her neck, her shoulder, and relishing the feel of the goosebumps that appeared on her soft skin.

He leaned down, his fangs lengthened, his hand pressing against the back of her neck to pull her close, when suddenly, he felt the cool point of a spear being pointed at the side of his head.

* * *

note: i'm anxious about this, but hell, here it goes. _illicit affairs_ is nothing more than a small-very small-collection of drabbles on frankie and his life post-outbreak/pre-_daybreakers_, so his personality is a bit different than the one from the movie.


	2. envy

(ii)

She felt his hands touching the sides of her arms, gently, soothing. She bit her lower lip and closed her eyes as she felt his lips on her neck once more, his breath as he sighed. When his hands touched her own, she shivered. His hands were cold, almost freezing.

"Want some?" she asked, pushing her head back and resting it on the man's shoulder that was no more than an inch away from her. Her hand snaked behind her and she felt the back of his head. Her touch wandered, however, and her hand soon rested on the tip of his ear, frowning just a little when she felt its roundness.

"Please, Vera" he whispered, his mouth opening, his fangs trailing down her neck.

For a second, Vera wondered just how it would feel to have his fangs sink into her neck, as he sucked as much blood as he wanted, helping her turn. She wanted that, if it was from Frankie. Immortality, she had realized from after studying Frankie for days on end, wasn't such a bad idea.

Her eyes flashed open and she found Frankie looking down at her.

"Move along, then," she said, sitting back up out of his reach before searching for a needle, a tourniquet, antiseptics and a bag. "It'll be ready in a while.''

After Frankie left, she sat by herself, prepping her arm once more to complete her part of the bargain.

_No_, she thought, injecting a needle into her vein, letting the bag fill with her pint of blood, a serving he'd survive on for a three days. _That's not a life worth living._

_

* * *

_

note: i actually like leaving their thoughts travel off. it's much more relaxing. but if i did write what Vera thought when she felt his round ear, i think this would be a page longer than necessary 'cause Vera likes to go off on a tangent about Frankie's habits, or so he tells me. i don't know whether or not to make it longer than i've planned to make it, but i'll see to that later. they're only drabbles after all. either way, enjoy. :)


	3. sloth

(iii)

"Video games again?" Vera picked up the wrappers on the table, each one more roughly than the next, frowning as Frankie kept dodging her to look up at the screen of the television where a car was being driven by a vampire-istic character as he hunted down humans like they were cattle.

Wincing when she heard a terrifying screech as a human was tranquilized by Frankie's character's comrades, Vera walked past and tossed the bags out. "_A Negative Caramel Wafers, Blood Cheetos_, _O Positive Blood Duds,_" Vera read as she tossed each bag, one after the other, into the silver rubbish bin. _Wonder what else they'll put blood in._

"Damn it," Frankie shouted as his vampire exploded. "That fucking-Where the hell did-Vera! Where's my fucking _blooditos_?"

"You're out of them," Vera snapped. "You haven't shopped in over two weeks!"

"I just got back from my tour of duty," Frankie replied as he got up and restarted the game. "I've only got a month before I have to go back-I'm not going to spend them _shopping_!"

"Well, I certainly can't go out." Vera moved back towards the kitchen, a glass of water in her hand and a cup of blood in the other.

"Not my fault you refuse to turn," Frankie sang, his gold eyes never leaving the television where he had started on level one: the farm at Bromley Marks Pharmaceuticals.

Vera plopped down onto the leather sofa, tucking her feet under her. She shoved the blood-filled cup in Frankie's line of vision and was not amazed when she saw him move up and grab the cup with his mouth before sitting back, tipping the cup over, and drinking it.

The game wore on until late that evening.

* * *

note: haha, i had a fun time renaming our junk food into something more vampire-approved. i can not even come close to picturing myself eating any of the food mentioned here. and caramel wafers are the best out of all the ones i mentioned (in my opinion). blooditos and blood cheetos-the originality when it comes to naming junk food is still non-existent. go figure. this was somewhat crack-ish, no? but that is the way of the sloths. :)


	4. lust

**warning:** this chapter contains sex, mainly a masturbation scene (_male_ masturbation if it makes people more/less interested). so, skip the chapter if you don't like sex, but don't complain afterwords; i gave you a fair warning.

(iv)

Water dribbled down his body, from his head to his toes and he felt at ease. His sore muscles relaxed and the strain he put on his body that day was almost literally washed away as he took his morning shower. The soap was disappearing and when he thought of someone's body, pushed up against the wall, slick and wet, moaning his name, he felt himself grow warm.

He groaned indignantly before he moved his hand down and grabbed the erect member that had started poking the lower regions of his abdomen.

"S-shit."

He gently stroked his member a couple times, moaning softly as he did so, feeling the pang of lust in the pit of his stomach grow as he did so.

The palm of his other hand pressed against the wall, his fingers trying to claw at it as though it was soft flesh. He hit his head against it, trying to regain some sanity as the increased pleasure seemed to take away.

Cool water continued to drip down his back and he tugged faster. He felt a shiver run up his spine as his finger ran across the tip of the head, smearing pre-cum around it.

He threw his head back as another wave of pleasure rippled throughout his entire body and spurt out against the tiled wall before him.

"Oh," he panted, his hand stroking himself, letting himself ride out the rest of his orgasm, falling into complete oblivion as he continued. "F-fuck."

He sighed deeply before he moved his limp body back under the cool water that now seems freezing compared to the insuferable heat he had felt a moment before.

More water trickled down his body. It wasn't until Frankie finished his shower and shut it off that he heard hurried departing footsteps just outside his door.

* * *

note: i can't write a full on sex scene for the life of me, or a masturbation scene. funny thing is that i can easily write all these really explicit sex scenes in some of my other fandoms that contain sex, but here it's almost like sex in general is taboo. i mean, you're either hunting or being hunted in _daybreakers_, so i guess reproduction isn't much of an option for either group. vampires live forever, so why add more? and humans are being slaughtered, so why try to procreate to help the vampires in the first place? so, sorry if this sucked, but eh, can't say i didn't try.


	5. greed

(v)

There have been rumors going around about those that drink AB blood would become addicted. Scientists, including Frankie's brother Edward, have published the results of studies done on vampires that only drink one type of blood. The results always came to one common conclusion: AB blood types are the most addictive, and to those vampires that try to quit without help, there would be terrifying withdrawal symptoms.

Whether Frankie was one that believed it was a ruse made by the rich so that they would get the most delectable blood for themselves, or whether he was in denial, was not what mattered to him. Blood, _her_ blood, was all he cared about.

In the morning, he would go to the kitchen a have a cup of her blood. After a shower, with vodka (something Vera had introduced and, consequently, gotten him addicted to shortly after her arrival), after a workout, and even before he went up to bed he'd have another cup. It was as routine to him as anything else. He could easily say it was due to his vampirism, that it was just something he had to do, but there was a growing desperation in him that turned into anger and he had no qualms about unleashing it on the unsuspecting human in the vicinity.

Words were exchanged and he felt his fangs lengthen just a bit as he glared at her.

She trembled and a familiar smell of fear filled his nostrils.

"Frankie, please," she cried, backing up against the wall and soon he felt something pressing against his stomach.

He looked down.

"I-I made this for you today," she said quickly, the blood being pressed in the bag, making a white space appear between her thumb, the bag, and her index finger. "I was planning on replacing the other bags, but it takes a lot longer than I've been accustomed to. It..."

Taking the bag, he felt her hands and noticed they were thin and pale, the warmth he had felt radiating off her was almost gone.

"I'll go fill the other bags, then, alright?"

Her lips curved upwards in a weak smile and she quickly excused herself to her room, where the equipment for her donations were kept.

That was the first time in three years that Frankie had lost all desire to drink blood.

* * *

note: sorry for the long wait. i've had this chapter written since forever ago, but haven't had the time to update at all. so sorry. hope you all enjoyed it.


	6. wrath

(vi)

Dreams of death plagued Frankie each and every night. Sometimes he would wake, find his body in a cold sweat, and go down stairs, searching for a cup of the AB blood. Other times, Frankie would roll over onto his side, say, "It's just a nightmare," before falling into his own dreamland once more. However, the dream would return, always the same.

He would be in his bedroom, a lamp lit in the corner, a computer laid on his bed while he turned his back to it, eyes closed as he slept. The sun was still out; two hours were left before it sunk away.

The door would open and there were be soft footsteps as someone padded into his room.

His bed would dip and he would unconsciously turn onto his back. The person would pause for a moment and then, once they were sure that Frankie was still asleep, they would continue to crawl up the bed.

Frankie would be able to feel them, the heat radiating off their body, as they moved further up his body, legs on each side, following the paths the two hands made. The figure would stop, hands on either side of his head, legs almost straddling his waist. He would open his eyes, just a bit, to try to glance at the figure above him, to make out a shape, but the light was behind the person, and the figure would be nothing but a shadow.

Suddenly, there would be pressure on his neck, tight, constricting, and he wouldn't be able to breathe, and his eyes would snap open, surprised, desperation growing as the lack of air supplied to his lungs decreased.

"I'm sorry," the voice above him would say, cracking slightly as she spoke.

"V-Vera?" he would managed to choke out before the hold would tighten again.

It would be then that he would snap. His fangs would grow, his strength would multiply, and he would overtake the girl, pushing her onto the bed, snarling from his new position, and, with his newfound lack of control, he'd spring forward and bite down on her neck.

There would be a deafening scream and he would wake up.

Which is why, the next evening, after having dreamt the same dream again, he walked down stairs, searching for the human girl that would usually be in the kitchen, eating some blood-free breakfast. However, that evening was the evening that he returned to her bedroom, rapped on the door several times, entered despite protests not to and met a pair of sad, golden eyes.

* * *

note: a rather depressing second-to-last chapter, huh?


	7. pride

(vii)

The way that Vera would flip him off as he went to work and she went to bed were very going to be missed. The way she would hand him a cup of her own blood, with a smile on her face all the while, was definitely going to be something he would want to have back after a week of getting it from the BloodBucks down the street. The way that she would feel as she slipped by his side, warming him when she, too, wanted the same comfort he wanted from her—that was going to be missed, too.

The piles of blood that were stacked in a freezer she had asked him to install ("It'll be easier to store the blood for you if we kept a larger one downstairs.") were there, being used in smaller portions and moved around to keep from "going bad" since there would never be a day where he would get a fresh cup of her blood anymore.

The only other thing left, other than her blood and the memories that were not fading fast enough, was a letter written by her for him. One that told him about how much she rather enjoyed being with him, but also about how she knew her death would be soon.

"I wonder what it would be like," he read aloud for the millionth time to himself as he sat alone in a dark room, "if our circumstances had been different. If this disease hadn't gone around."

Her writing would space here and continue on, but he wouldn't be able to read it anymore. It was all too sad, reading her goodbyes and her apologies for what she had failed to do.

It was even crumpled, this letter of hers, because when he hadn't found her and searched high and low only to find the piece of paper and whatever ashes of her that had not been blown away by the wind, he had gotten angry and made a paper ball out of it. He had even thought of ripping it and burning it, but had, after a good hour of angry cursing, decided it better not to.

-x-

_"What are you doing?" Frankie asked as he found Vera climbing down a set of stairs that led to the rooftop he used for astronomy studying during his college days._

_"Looking at the sun," she said simply, smiling and he had already known that. The smell of sun on her skin was strong. "They say there's going to be an eclipse later today, so I'm getting prepared for it. Will you watch, too?"_

_"No," Frankie had replied. "I've got other things to do and you won't be convincing me otherwise."_

_"Aw!"_

-x-_  
_

He had remembered climbing up the minute the radio reported it was safe for the vampires to step outside (if they were awake, of course) and she had been happy enough not to brag about him "giving in" and they had spent the entire time there, watching the mysterious phenomenon.

And now, as he stood near a window, a small one he only opened at night, he gripped the letter tightly before hiding it within his pants pocket and picking up the bag that had been filled with his clothes.

With the bag slung over his shoulder, a letter from a man named Bromely in his breast pocket, and a last glance of his now-empty home, Frankie stepped out.

(End)

* * *

note: can't believe it's over. but i had to end it somewhere and Vera's death had to be done. she couldn't go living as a vampire and I get the feeling Frankie knew this would happen, but that's left to interpretation, no? anyway, thanks to all the readers that enjoyed this story (especially CorkyConlon who reviewed every chapter without fail! seriously, you made writing this story really worth it!). it was fun writing, but i will bid you all adieu 'till next time.


End file.
